


Black and Blue

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Foxtrot [42]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: any, any, beaten black and blue. Cameron Mitchell is stuck in the infirmary after being beaten black and blue post-Ark of Truth. John Sheppard shares his secret and will keep it. Or: soldiers who knit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and Blue

When a man was beaten black and blue in service of his country, his planet, and his galaxy, he deserved a chance to sleep as much as he wanted, laze as much as he wanted, and eat all the macaroons Samantha Carter could bake.  
  
Naturally, because Cam had been beaten black and blue in service of his country, his planet, and his galaxy, he was given nothing he deserved and instead inflicted with a series of chats and interviews by various Air Force and IOA dignitaries (whose apologies were mostly grudging and insincere and made Cam want to hit something, preferably an IOA dignitary). He'd written his AAR (typed up illegally on his datapad before Dr. Lam caught him and issued strict orders that he not be allowed to use it at all) and had nothing to do but try to rest and instead feel restless (and close his eyes and remember being tossed around by that man-replicator monster hybrid).  
  
So he was surprised as all get-out when John Sheppard showed up in the infirmary one day.  
  
"Heard you really took one for the team," Sheppard said.  
  
"I wasn't the only one." Cam shrugged, winced and regretted it when his shoulder screamed.  
  
"Heard Lam's got you on pretty good lockdown."  
  
"You aren't here to break me out, are you? Because I'd send you a lifetime supply of lemons if you did."  
  
"Rodney still hasn't forgiven you - or me - for that." Sheppard smiled wryly. "And I'm not about to challenge Lam. I did bring you a present, though." He reached into his duffel bag and drew out...knitting needles and a ball of yarn.  
  
"How did you know?" Cam asked, keeping his voice low. But he reached for the proffered knitting project anyway.  
  
"Heard you asking the nurses yesterday," Sheppard said.  
  
Cam had begged Marie for something, anything to keep him busy. He'd been watching her butcher a simple rib-and-cable scarf pattern for hours, and he itched to take the needles and yarn for her, fix it. Knitting wasn't something he admitted to being able to do because he was a man in the Air Force and he knew better, but his grandma had taught him to knit while he was recovering from Antarctica. She'd read on a website that it helped veterans who had PTSD. Mostly Cam was gleeful about saddling his brother and cousins with garish scarves for winter.  
  
"You managed to sound like you were kidding to them," Sheppard said, "but when you pointed out that a double-pointed needle was smoother for cable stitches than a cable needle, I knew."  
  
Cam raised his eyebrows. "You knit?"  
  
Again with the wry smile. "Sixteen. Broken femur. Laid up for a good long while. Grandma taught me. You?"  
  
"A couple of years ago. When my 302 went down. Grandma taught me, too." Cam inspected the beginnings of the pattern. Five-strand braided cables. Chunky yarn. Variegated from blue to black and back again. Sheppard had a sense of humor. "Thanks. Sure you won't miss this?"  
  
"Socks are my thing these days," Sheppard said.  
  
Cam nodded knowingly. A soldier could never have too many pairs of clean socks. "I'll keep your secret, I promise."  
  
"Thanks, Mitchell. I'll keep yours, too." Sheppard fired off a casual salute – how the hell did that man survive Earth, with his insubordination and non-regulation hair? – and ducked out of the infirmary.  
  
Cam eased forward, checked that his end of the infirmary was empty, and set about knitting. If there was a tail of blue-black yarn sticking out from under his pillow when Marie came to check on him while he pretended to nap, she didn't say anything, and neither did he.


End file.
